Perfect Muse
by Elfgirl23
Summary: Steve is an artist who is awestruck when a new customer comes into the cafe that he frequents. After drawing him the first time, Steve becomes enthralled with the man. He returns to the coffee shop more often to see if he was there, only to find the man there more and more often. Did he know? Was he looking for Steve too?
1. Chapter 1

**Another new one… I've had this one done for a while so I decided to just post the two I'm gonna be working on along with the one I have and another one. It's a prompt from my best friend and I figured it was time to finally post it. So here it is! And I hope you enjoy!**

The crowded café had finally quieted down as Steve sat and sipped his coffee. It was a warm day for the fall and he'd decided to take shelter in the coffee shop by his apartment. He came here whenever he felt overwhelmed, or when had to hide from yet another bully.

Maybe his mom was right, he got into too many fights. It wasn't like he went looking for them, it just seemed to happen. He couldn't let jerks get away with being rude, or annoying some girl on the street! He would always call them out… Even if it meant getting his ass handed to him every other day. Steve was used to it at this point and he didn't see the point in trying to change.

Besides, the girls always seemed appreciative that he stepped in. Even if they did refer to him as cute and small. They didn't fawn over him, but they gave him enough attention for him to know they cared and appreciated his efforts.

Steve never said much to them whenever they came over to show their gratitude. He was too shy to say much of anything. They were always too pretty, or taller than him. He'd never really had a real conversation with a girl before, besides his friends and co-workers. Just brief exchanges of "it was nothing" or "anytime." That was about all his love life seemed able to handle.

He didn't mind too much. He didn't help them for the glory or to gain their eternal love. He fought guys two feet bigger than him because it was the right thing to do. And no one else would do it. Not in his experience at least.

He may be short, but he wasn't exactly helpless.

People easily forgot that little fact. It gave him a bit of an advantage.

No one expected a five foot, scrawny guy with asthma to fight back when a punch was thrown at him. Added onto that, no one seemed to have a problem beating a guy who was a hell of a lot shorter than them.

Steve always managed to get in at least one punch, though, it always hurt him more than it hurt them. For the guys he somehow always pissed off, his attacks never even registered on their pain scale.

However, that little fact never stopped him from doing what was right. He would fight to the end and defend the honour of those who were fell victim to the jerks of the street.

Today, thankfully, wasn't one of those days. So when he'd walked into the coffee shop the barista hadn't given him an eyebrow raise at his roughed up look and had simply begun making Steve's normal order while the short man took a seat near the back of the café. Where he always sat.

Open in front of him, beside his cup of coffee, was his sketchbook. Steve always carried it with him. It was like a safety net. Whenever he got stressed out, or was on the verge of an asthma or panic attack he'd just open it up and let his hand flow across the page. See the dark marks from his pencil glide and create an image before his eyes. His skillful hand accurately depicting his subject. 

Steve had been drawing forever and his talent had only grown with him. It had become more than a hobby for him. It had become a part of his career, a part of him. Steve couldn't imagine his life without a sketchbook and set of pencils in his bag. He felt naked whenever he forgot them, which wasn't often.

Today he was sketching out the view outside the coffee shop. It was a scene that he had in the book a million times, but the scene was always different. Different people to sketch out, different signs on the shops across the street. Different cars on the street. For Steve it was the perfect scene. A constant in life, but able to change with the times. Just how people every day had to do. A perfect metaphor for life.

When he finished, Steve sat back and finished his coffee. He wiped a hand across his forehead and let out a sigh through his teeth. He glanced around the shop at all the people, checking to see if there was anyone else he could draw. Most of them he saw here on a regular basis, but there was always the occasional new one that would draw his attention and curiosity.

A new muse that Steve would quickly sketch out in secret and hope no one noticed. He did it more often than he probably should. No one had said anything yet, and he didn't know if it was because they didn't notice, or if they just didn't care.

It didn't matter. As long as he didn't offend anyone.

Sweeping his eyes across the shop, his breath caught when he noticed someone new sitting in the corner, almost out of his point of view.

He had mousey brown hair, and a strong jaw that was clenched as he took a sip of his drink. Steve could just make out his eyes, a deep grey blue. An almond shape that sparkled with the incoming light from the window beside him. They had a small moon shape under them and Steve could tell wherever he worked he probably had a late shift. Which explained the giant coffee cup in his hand. His shoulders were broad and Steve could feel his fingers itching to draw out the curves of his form. The downward turn of his nose, those shoulders, the shape of his jaw… All of it.

Smiling to himself, he flipped to a new page and subtly started to sketch out his form. Erasing and fixing until he was absolutely satisfied with each stroke of his pencil. There was no room for error, and Steve couldn't even explain to himself why this was so important.

Five minutes later he was finally happy with the outline of his subject. At the moment the man had his chin propped on the heel of his hand and was gazing vacantly out the window. An expression of boredom and slight exhaustion settling into every muscle of his face.

Steve eagerly began to add in those details. Feeling his hand fly across the page with precise speed. This was the best subject he'd had in a while and he didn't want to mess it up. Thankfully the man didn't move much, so getting his image absolutely perfect was no hard task. He kept still as a statue, almost as if he could sense that Steve was drawing him. That was impossible though, Steve barely looked up and there was the whole counter between them. Steve had to quickly glance around it to even see the man!

No way he knew!

Right?

When Steve finished he sneakily compared the two and when he was satisfied, he signed off on the bottom of the page. He looked back up at the man and saw him down the rest of his coffee. He stood up and tossed his cup in the trash, running a hand through his thick brown hair. He rolled his shoulders and walked out of the coffee shop, not even giving Steve a glance.

Thankfully. That meant he didn't know what Steve had done.

For once, Steve didn't want his subject to know. With anyone else he didn't care if they asked him about it, which they never did. But with this one he felt his cheeks flame every time he even thought about the man coming over and talking to him.

Steve ducked his head and stared at his drawing, he didn't have a crush. It was impossible, he'd only just seen the guy! But, sure, attraction. That's all it was. No harm in admitting _that_ much to himself!

Satisfied with his work, Steve closed his sketchbook and packed up his things. He threw out his empty paper cup and slung his bag over his shoulder. He headed out into the warm air, pulling his jacket closer around him as a cool breeze whipped through his sallow frame. He had little to no defense against the cold air. His body barely had any body mass to even attempt to keep him warm! Most people assumed he had some terminal disease, but that was far from the truth. He just had several non-lethal ones.

Deep down, he felt that was worse.

He walked all the way back to his apartment alone, managing to avoid those who may cause trouble… Or who he'd make cause trouble. Steve had a talent for that. People hated it when he called them out on their shit. Though, he assumed people hated it when you called them out on their faults in general. He could understand that, even if it was important to him that people know when they were being an ass.

Climbing the stone steps up to his front door, he walked in and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. The cheapest he could get in Brooklyn. It was small with one bedroom, a living room, bathroom, and a small but good enough kitchen. He was the only one who lived there, so there wasn't the need for a big fancy place. He didn't make much at the journal he worked for. He drew comics and took pictures for the magazine, and he got a decent pay but it just covered his rent and weekly groceries.

His parents had left him some money, and he'd put it in a savings account. He refused to touch it and simply let it gather interest. One day he would travel to Europe and sell his art. That was his goal at least. People seemed to like it enough in the journal. He truly believed he could take it somewhere serious.

No more stalking people in the coffee shop off First Street.

He would definitely miss that place, though. It was a part of him and had really helped his art get to the point it was at. Still, Steve knew he couldn't hide it forever and had to start branching out if he ever wanted to make something of himself.

Steve refused to be seen as the little guy who couldn't fend for himself. That was one of the reasons he didn't turn away from a fight. Why show weakness? Why prove their suspicions right? He was better than that and he would show them!

Even if that did mean getting beat up and trudging home with a limp and a black eye.

Tossing his bag onto the ratty couch, Steve went into the kitchen and made himself a small dinner. Stir fry with pieces of chicken over top. He grabbed a glass of milk and sat in the living room to eat. Alone. Just like he did every night.

Nothing ever changed in his routine. Steve occasionally had friends over, but never anyone who wasn't incredibly busy. He had a group he met at a bar every Saturday night, but Steve only joined in occasionally. The bar wasn't really his scene. Too many people, too many fights to be had, and so many intimidating people who came up to him. It wasn't just women Steve had a problem talking to. Whenever men came over, he'd stammer and end up screwing it up royally.

He'd come to the conclusion that he wasn't meant to be in a relationship. He'd never actually been in one and the one time he'd actually kissed someone it had been a dare. Tony knew exactly how to push his buttons. The billionaire was always the life of the party. Daring them to take risks and always trying to pull Steve from his comfort zone. Most times Steve rolled with it, but others he denied their requests and watched them from a distance.

Steve loved his friends, mainly for the fact that they never teased him or made him feel as if he were less than them or like he was skinny guy most people saw him as. It was refreshing to be around a group who treated him like he was normal. Even if some of them were terrifying and he knew absolutely nothing about them.

They were nice enough to him though, so he didn't really bother to ask them about their personal lives. He doubted they'd tell him anyway.

Steve finished his dinner and washed his plate and glass, putting them in the drying rack. He checked his watch and sighed, it was already nine o'clock. The sun had set two hours ago. Steve knew he should probably get some sleep, he had to be up early tomorrow. The magazine had a huge shoot for an interview Peggy had done last week.

She always asked Steve to help her with the shoots, she told him he was the only one she trusted. Peggy was an intern from England, studying here until she got her degree in Business and could go into the corporate world back in her home country. She always told him stories and honestly she was the only woman who didn't look at him like he was a puppy or a doll that they'd break if they touched. Or, you know, like a freak.

Peggy treated him like any other guy and it was more than he could ask for.

He'd thought about asking her out a couple times, but the timing had never been right. Besides, she didn't seem interested in dating anyone. Being friends was more than enough for Steve anyway. He needed more female friends who liked him and didn't try and change every little aspect of his appearance.

Smiling to himself, Steve carried his bag back to his room and sat on the edge of the bed. He took out his sketchbook and opened it to the page of the beautiful stranger and stared at it again. The image of how calm and stoic he looked was already engraved in his brain. There was something about him that made Steve want to get to know him. But he knew that would never happen. Odds were that he'd never even see the guy again. What was the point of pining over a guy who clearly was way out of his league?

Annoyed with his brain, he shut the book and placed the sketchbook on the desk on to his left. He dropped his bag beside it and got ready for bed.

Crawling in between the sheets he couldn't help but silently pray that he'd see the guy again. Maybe at the coffee shop, or even just on the street. Once more, just once so Steve could confirm how he looked.

Rolling his eyes at himself he closed his eyes and drifted off into a comforting sleep about grey-blue eyed mysteries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wanted to post this a couple days ago but the site was down. Working now! So here is the next chapter :D Enjoy! And review what you think, I love your guys' comments.**

"Steve!" Peggy said, snapping her fingers to gain his attention, "Where's your focus? I need you to start taking pictures! This shoot needs to go quickly so we can get the story up and into the newest issue. Come on, focus soldier!"

Blinking in embarrassment, Steve lifted the camera and took a shot of the newest millionaire who had moved to New York. A new rise to fame, rivalling the throne Tony Stark so proudly held. The article was on his life and where he what he was going to do with his new fortune and upcoming company.

While everyone assumed he was going to replace Tony, Steve knew deep down there was no way Tony would ever give up his throne. Nor would anyone ever amount to the fame he had. The guy was one of the most important people in the world.

He snapped several photos, different poses. Humouring the guy into thinking he was some kind of model. Chances were, he'd be big and important for the month the magazine ran his story and then the world would forget about him. That's usually what happened. If you didn't keep appearances, no one gave a damn that you were rich.

After the shoot, they said goodbye to their interviewee and Steve headed off to his desk so he could load and touch up the pictures. He loaded up the computer and sat back, letting them load. His small frame looked even frailer in the big desk chair. He slid down and moved the chair back and forth, focusing fully on the screen.

There was a thump beside him and a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to cry out and jump about a foot in the air.

Steve glanced over in a panic and blinked up at a giggling Peggy. Glaring he sat up straight and crossed his arms "That wasn't very nice." He muttered.

Peggy stifled her laughter and smiled kindly at him "My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you Steven."

"It's fine, I'm not usually that skittish." Steve replied, leaning forward to observe the pictures he'd taken, determining which ones were the best. "What can I do for you Peggy?"

"Can you get the pictures to me by this afternoon? I want to do them before I leave." She asked, still smiling at him. Peggy hopped off the desk and leaned over his shoulder to see the pictures along with him "Choose three. I'll probably only use two, but having an extra will at least give me some options."

Steve nodded "Yeah sure, I can do that no problem."

"Thanks Rogers," Peggy smiled and headed off back to her own desk.

Steve smiled as she left and turned back to his own work. He scrolled through the multitude of pictures that he'd taken and picked out three. Sending them off to Peggy, he signed off and headed home for the day.

He wanted to get back to the café, hoping that maybe the beautiful stranger would be there again. He'd been all Steve could think about during the day. He was absolutely perfect and everything he could have ever asked for in a drawing subject.

If the universe liked him at all, they would let him see the man just once more. Just once would be fine… Maybe.

Truthfully, Steve wished he was brave enough to talk to the man. That is, if he ever got the chance to see him again. That was a big if. Few people visited that coffee shop as religiously as he did.

Still, there were the regulars, maybe this guy would turn out to be one of them.

Steve walked down the busy streets if New York and walked straight to the coffee shop. He ordered his regular, just as he did every day, and hid in the back corner where no one would see him. He pulled out his writing pad and set in on the table in front of him. Smiling at the drawing he'd done last time of the beautiful stranger, he flipped to a new page and looked around for inspiration.

When he didn't see the stranger he tried to withhold his disappointment and focused on someone else in the café. He thanked the barista when he brought him his drink and continued to draw. About a half hour later, when he'd drawn about two other sketches and all but had dinner at the café, he finally saw the stranger walk in.

Today his hair was gelled into a controlled ruffled look and he was wearing a tight leather jacket with loose dark jeans. His eyes swept the coffee shop and a smile pulled at his lips but Steve couldn't figure out why. The stranger ordered and took a seat closer to the blond this time. He stretched his arms and rested his chin on his hand, gazing out at the people passing on the street.

Steve grinned, he really was perfect to draw. Photogenic and settling into comfortable poses without a second thought.

Discreetly, Steve got to work right away.

When he finished, he sat back with a proud smile. The stranger ran a finger through his hair, in perfect time too. From what Steve could tell he'd barely moved the whole time he'd been drawing. But he must've shifted a little when he'd been looking down. Otherwise he would be stiff the next day. Besides, if he hadn't moved that almost made it seem like he knew Steve had been drawing him. But that couldn't be so, he definitely would have said something… Right?

No matter though, Steve closed his book and got himself a tea instead of a coffee. He did want to sleep tonight. He didn't have to go into work tomorrow so he decided to call Sam and see if they wanted to meet up. He didn't particularly like going out, but he did make a conscious effort to see at least one of his friends once a week.

Just a little thing to let them know he was still alive. For some reason they worried about him. Like he couldn't take care of himself. Though… To be fair… He did get his ass kicked an awful lot.

Sitting back down, Steve sat back and did his best not to stare at the beautiful stranger. He was reading the paper now, eyes scanning over the words. Steve smiled at the sight and did his best not to open his book again and start on another drawing. He was definitely tempted to.

If he did more than just the one, the man might actually notice. And as much as Steve wanted to talk to him, he couldn't do that. Not just yet. Maybe, if he became a regular, a conversation would just strike up naturally. Like if they were in line at the same time. Or if he "accidentally" sat down beside him. Then they could talk and it would seem natural.

Not creepy like it would now.

Steve admired the way the man seemed to pose. Like a model, he always seemed at ease in the position he rested in. His disarray hair was so inviting, Steve wished he could run his fingers through what looked like softness.

Sighing, he forced himself to pack up. If he stayed much longer he would speak to the man. Say something stupid and ruin the whole moment. Right now he was in bliss and Steve could admire him from afar. Secretly wishing and dreaming up scenarios where they could talk. Get to know each other more…

But he was fooling himself. People tended to look at him with pity, or like he was a small puppy who needed to be protected. That wasn't what Steve wanted. He wanted someone to view him as an equal… Though he doubted that would ever happen. He'd been cursed with so many illnesses and conditions that people would always view him as a victim to his own life.

Never like he was in control.

Shoving his book into his bag he began his exit out of the coffee shop. As he walked, he got distracted by the man stretching and running his hand through his hair. His eyes widened at the sight of his shirt raising just the slightest and his midriff being shown.

He felt his foot catch on something and he crashed to the ground. His bag falling from his grasp and the books falling out of it. He hit the floor hard, the wind being knocked out of him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he heard people chuckle around him. He was used to that he supposed, but it still hurt to know people would rather laugh at someone than help them.

What he didn't expect was the sight of someone kneeling beside him and helping gather his things. Steve glanced over, cheeks still red to find the man there with a kind smile on his face.

Steve's face wouldn't smile back, he just stared at him in awe. He grabbed the books that were offered to him and shoved them into his bag once more. He shot up, stumbling to his feet and grabbing a chair for support.

His cheeks were flaming as he stared at the man. He managed to squeak out "T-thanks." Before losing his nerve and sprinting out of the café, leaving the man standing there in confusion.

Halfway down the street, Steve collapsed against a wall and stared across the street.

 _Smooth Steve… Very smooth._ He thought in annoyance at himself. He'd had the perfect opportunity to talk to him and he'd thrown it away. The man had been right there! He'd helped him while the others laughed. He deserved more than a squeaky thank you!

Even still, Steve couldn't go back now. It would be more embarrassing to do that. The beautiful stranger would probably laugh at him if he did. And Steve didn't think his beating heart could take that. It was still trying to calm down from the whole ordeal.

His breath was coming in short gasps and he felt around for his inhaler. He tugged it roughly out of his jacket pocket and took a swift puff from it. His breathing regulated and he leaned heavily against the wall.

He should go home and there was nothing more to do here. Besides, he still needed to call Sam and let him know he was alive.

Standing up straight, Steve walked away from the curb and hurried home. He didn't have to go into work tomorrow, so he decided if Sam did want to see him as proof that he hadn't been fighting then he could. If he tried to postpone those things, then Sam got suspicious. Though, generally, he was right and Steve was just trying to let them heal a bit so they didn't look as bad as they could.

Sam knew this, but couldn't exactly prove it.

Back at his house, he trudged upstairs and collapsed onto the couch. His heart was still pounding but it was strange to have it going crazy over something that wasn't a fight. If he was honest, it was a nice change.

When he got his breath back, he pulled out his cell and dialed Sam's number.

"Hello?" Sam's voice answered after the second ring.

Steve smiled "Hey Sam, just letting you know I'm alive and well. Just like you said to do."

Sam laughed on the other line and replied "Thanks man. You know I worry about you. All alone in the big city. You should come live out here. It's safer and I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself Sam. Believe it or not. Besides, I'm not alone. I have friends at work, and Tony doesn't live too far from here." Steve replied with a slight eye roll.

"Far enough." Sam replied "I'm actually coming into town soon. We should meet up, get the whole crew together again."

Smiling to himself Steve nodded "Yeah… Yeah that sounds fun."

"Really?" Sam asked in surprise "You're not trying to get out of it? No dogs to save at the animal shelter this time?"

"Shut up." Steve laughed "I'm serious. Don't make me regret it." He paused and decided to explain "I haven't seen you guys in some time, and work is pretty slow right now. I just finished a shoot for this week's edition. Plus, I need to get out of the neighbourhood. It's been a strange couple of days."

"Oh? How so? No fights? More than usual?" Sam questioned, genuine curiosity in his voice. It was mixed with uncertainty about whether Steve had been getting into more disputes. He did really worry about the smaller man.

Steve shrugged, answering honestly "No more than usual. I… I uh I found someone new to draw."

Sam's laughter rang out once more as he said teasingly "Oh do you now? Are they cuter than the last one? You don't tend to draw people more than once unless they are."

"Come on Sam, that's not true." Steve chuckled "But yeah, yeah he is cute… It's strange. I've never seen him before. Not on the streets or anything. It's like he just came out of nowhere!"

"Well have you asked around about him?" Sam asked.

"No." Steve muttered. "I don't want to be obvious."

"Sounds like you already are."

Sighing Steve couldn't help but agree. The man probably saw the look in his eyes when he'd helped him gather his things. The small squeak that had come out of him. He had to withhold a groan at how pathetic that had been. What would the stranger think of him now?

Would he even come back? Or had Steve scared him off, made him go find another coffee shop because the weird artist had a freak out in front of him?

Just his luck.

"Steve?" Sam asked, prompting him to make sure he was still alive. "Everything okay?"

Jumping slightly he let out a soft breath and nodded "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm good. Just, just got lost in thought." Steve explained with a blush "I'll uh… I'm gonna go make some dinner. Text me the time and place for tomorrow? That'd be great."

"Okay, sure thing Steve." Sam replied, an amused smile on his lips "I'll talk to you later man. Have a good dinner." He stopped a moment before saying "And Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to be too obsessive." Sam replied, still sounding amused.

Steve rolled his eyes "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya." Sam laughed and hung up the phone.

Tossing his phone aside, Steve stood up and headed for the kitchen. He pulled out pots and ingredients for a small meal and mulled over the events of the day. Reliving the moment when he met eyes with the stranger. The brunet with the beautiful features. Perfect jawline and form for drawing.

He was the muse Steve had been searching for. The one who could give him the kind of inspiration he needed.

It was strange of these things worked out.

He wouldn't get to see his muse tomorrow but that was okay. He needed a break from his obsession anyway. Besides, seeing his friends would be a good idea. Despite enjoying being on his own more or less, he did enjoy spending time with them.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, food in hand, he turned on the TV and spent the rest of the evening in a relaxed state, ready for the excitement that tomorrow would bring.

If Tony was there, he would probably have to keep the rest of his friends in line. That man certainly knew how to get a whole club of people riled up. It didn't take much, as the group of friends had discovered. Just a few choice words and you could have an entire club at your command.

There was a reason Tony was in the business of selling his products to the government and any other organization that needed help. He was a business man, he knew how to make people like him.

Shaking his head with a smile, he leaned back in the couch and awaited Sam's text. Surprisingly eager to go to some bar or club, the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

**And here we go. The next one won't be up for a while. I have two other fics to type and post still. But I will get to this one as soon as I can. Please review what you think! I love getting your comments and reactions to the chapters! 3  
**  
In the early evening the next day, Steve stood in front of his bedroom mirror eyeing himself critically. He was wearing a pair of dark loose fitting jeans and a white dress shirt that he'd gotten just for the purpose of work and going out with his friends. They usually went to fancy places and he didn't want to stand out in his old shirts and dress pants.

Steve didn't see the point of owning tons of fancy clothes when they all looked the same. He could spend his money on much more important things. Like art supplies, or even food. Those were what really mattered.

Tony gave him shit for it, but Steve didn't really mind. Not all of them could be rich like the great Tony Stark. They weren't all that lucky.

Forcing a smile to his lips, he tried to seem confident. It wasn't that he had extreme insecurities. Sure, he had a few. Especially when it came down to his health and height. But that wasn't anything new. Whatever the reasons, he had never felt full confidence in himself before. Maybe it was his health. Maybe he had just never gotten over the fact that he would never be as strong or as capable as the other boys on the playground.

Maybe he never would.

Shrugging at his reflection he turned away and grabbed his wallet from the dresser. He walked to the door and headed down out into the New York evening air. Even at seven o'clock people were already bustling around. Eager to find a bar or restaurant to spend the rest of their evening.

Steve hurried past them, pulling out a few bills and waving an arm for a cab. The club he was going to was on the other side of the city, but it was one of the best and Tony refused to go anywhere else. He had a special pass in and could bring as many people as he wanted. So, naturally, it was the easiest club to get into for them.

Climbing into the back of the cab, he gave the driver directions and sat back in the fabric seats. The smell inside the cab was less than pleasant, but Steve was used to it by this point. New York was far from the cleanest city in America. He had come to expect the trash everywhere and strange odors that seemed to seep from every sidewalk. Though, it seemed to be worse in the cabs. Maybe because of the amount of people who came through them or because they were never washed. Either way, it was all a part of New York's "charm."

Once at his stop, Steve handed the driver his money and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. He strained to see above the heads of the many people who passed, while pushing through the thick crowds. Sometimes he hated being so short, he could never see anything and people never saw him. They jostled him around as he regretfully used his elbows to move and avoid being stepped on.

"Steve!" A voice called out to him and Steve looked over to see Sam and Tony standing near the entrance.

Sam was waving at him and pulled him out of the crowd and into the long line up. They were almost at the front and the club would be open in the next five minutes.

The only one missing was Natasha.

Steve looked around, but didn't see her. She was never late! And he knew she'd be there, she never missed a chance to punch some unlucky guy in the gut when he tried to hit on her. She wasn't a tease, she didn't flirt with them. The one time they try they learned to back the hell off. Steve admired her for that. She didn't take shit from anyone.

He could probably take a few lessons from that. Learn how to properly fight back against the bullies he always provoked. But he was too scared to ask her about it. She was nice enough to him, they were friends, but Steve got the sense that she wouldn't appreciate being asked to teach him how to fight. As it was, she only did it when she really needed to.

The club opened and people began to file in. Steve looked around, still wondering where the hell Natasha had run off to. She should've been there by now. She always arrived long before Steve ever made it over to the club from the far side of the city.

"Don't worry about her." Tony said beside him, patting his back with a firm hand "She knows how to get in. She'll meet us inside. She said she was bringing a friend so they're probably the one making her late."

Nodding slowly Steve let Tony lead him inside the busy club.

People were already crowding around on the dancefloor, the DJ playing some upbeat song with a whole lot of synthesizing. Not really Steve's kind of music but for one night every so often he didn't mind it too much. Steve tended to stay away from the dancefloor though, too much of a risk that he'd get trampled by the many swarming bodies.

He usually sat to the side with Bruce, who refused to go out on the dancefloor. He got pretty bad panic attacks and when they hit… Well he was not a good person to be around. He got aggressive and angry, not how people normally react but it had become a defense mechanism for him. Steve didn't know all the details but he knew Bruce had a troubled past around it.

It was nice though, Steve liked having someone to talk to for the times when their other friends were out on the dancefloor. They tried to get the two out there every time, but Steve knew it was best if he stayed away from it. Sam, if no one else, would be constantly worried that he'd get stepped on the whole time that they were out there.

And besides, who would sit with Bruce if he did go out there? It wouldn't be fair to the timid scientist if he just left him there sitting alone.

To the left of the dancefloor was the bar and a collection of chairs and tables out in front of it that went right to the beginning of the dancers. That's usually where Steve and Bruce sat, eating the bar food and having a couple drinks. Their friends tried to stay close to them so they didn't feel completely abandoned. Though sometimes the crowd pulled them deep into their clump. After a little bit though they always found their way back to them.

Above them was a second floor with a balcony that wrapped all around the wide room. People stood up there and talked all the time, searching for a "quieter" spot to get to know each other. Or a variety of other illegal activities.

As soon as they walked in, Steve made a beeline for his usual table. Close as he could get to the floor without being trampled. Bruce was right behind him as the two took a seat at the table. They ordered a couple of beers and relaxed for the night. Sam was shaking his head at the two and walked over with a smirk.

"Seriously? You guys aren't going to join us again?" He asked with a frown.

Steve shrugged "I don't know what you want me to say Sam. I can't dance, it's not worth the embarrassment you'd have if I tried."

Sam rolled his eyes "You're a strange one Rogers." He turned to Bruce with a raised brow "And you're not joining us again either?"

Bruce shook his head "Too many people out there. I come for the food and drinks."

"You two are unbelievable." Sam muttered and walked away, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Laughing softly, Steve sat back and grinned at Bruce "Think they'll ever let it go one day?"

The scientist shrugged "It's one of the great mysteries of the world. I think they'll keep trying to get us to dance every time." He paused before continuing with "I would like to dance. I really would. But I don't want to take that chance…. That if…"

"I know." Steve said with a reassuring smile "They understand too, but I think they ask every time just in case we change our minds. Let us know they haven't forgotten about us."

Bruce nodded, a pleased smile on his lips. Steve couldn't help but wonder how many friends he'd had before this little friend group. Was he not used to people wanting to spend time with him? Or to having friends who let him be and do what made him comfortable? Were they the only ones who really understood what he went through?

It was sad thought either way.

The group was all out on the floor already. Not even bothering to grab a drink first. It wasn't how they usually went about this, but Steve knew they'd be back over there soon. Tony would get his usually fancy drink that only he could afford and the others would grab a good old beer. Getting tipsy was one of the best parts of the night. It certainly made dancing easier, no filter, no embarrassment about the stupid moves you made.

Most of their group couldn't exactly dance…

"How's the research going?" Steve asked, yelling the slightest over the music "Have you made any headway?"

Bruce nodded "A little. Studying Gamma radiation is not always safe, but it's been going pretty well. We have a bit more insight into how to perfectly secure the rays. Even with the suits we have developed it is too easy for it to have a leak. But if we can isolate a way to stop it from affecting us at all… Well it would open up so many new avenues."

Steve tilted his head "You mean like… For war? Or for the greater good?"

Bruce shifted uncomfortably and said "Whoever needs it…"

That wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear, but Steve didn't ask any more questions. He knew how difficult it could be to get funding for projects. You went wherever you could, even if they did go against your moral values.

Steve sat back with a smile "I'm glad it's going well. And I hope you find the answers you're looking for."

"Thank you, Steve." Bruce said sincerely "I really hope that this will help people. And the army isn't all bad. There are nuclear explosions happening much more often now and if we can find a way to really neutralize the rays then we can stop people from dying and being so affected by them. It really can be for the greater good."

"I know." Steve agreed "Let's hope you get the opportunity to give people that chance."

Bruce nodded, looking relieved. Apparently most people didn't react well when he talked about his work. Steve could understand why, but the way he saw it Bruce genuinely wanted to help people. And even if Steve didn't know much about science and his research, he knew enough to understand that the work he was doing was dangerous. One mishap and he could be seriously injured.

Or worse. Though he didn't really want to think about that side of it.

"And what about you? How's your job going?" Bruce asked, taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

Steve smiled and ran a hand through his short hair "It's going good I guess. I was photographing a fairly well known guy yesterday. You probably know him, he's Tony's competition." Steve chuckled and added "If it's even possible for Tony to have competition."

Bruce grinned widely in agreement and looked over at their friends on the floor "I don't think Tony even knows there are those who consider themselves his competition."

Steve nodded, that was a big possibility of course. Tony didn't let anyone phase him and he was always one step ahead of everyone else. It drove people crazy but he didn't even give them a second look. Tony was all about the pursuit of knowledge and not caring that people wanted to be better than him. He focused on himself and not what others thought about him.

Or what they wanted from him for that matter. They were not important unless they're company could help his own. He had a couple partners and none of them would ever dream going back on him. They knew their company wouldn't survive if they tried to backstab the wealthiest man in the city.

"At least he seems to be doing better." Bruce said suddenly "I know it was a little scary there for a bit."

Steve bit his lip and nodded, he tried not to think about that day. They almost lost him… "He seems happier. And Pepper promised she'd keep a close eye on him. She would let us know if started to act the way he did before."

"Thankfully." Bruce agreed, concern still in his eyes as turned back to Steve. "I'm glad to hear your job is going well Steve. Have you managed to sell any of your drawings?"

"Not yet." Steve sighed "But I think it's going to get better. The more people see my photographs in magazines and what not, they might want to see more of my work. At least that's what I'm hoping for."

Bruce smiled "I'm sure they will. And I would love to buy one from you. So would Tony I bet. Doesn't hurt to have someone of higher standing give your art a good review."

Steve studied his bottle intently. "I know I can, but I don't want people thinking I'm only friends with Tony for the publicity. You know how the tabloids can be. And what if Tony thinks that's the sole reason I want him around? For the press?"

"I doubt he'd ever think that about you Steve." Bruce reasoned with a kind smile "You guys have been friends for a long time now. His dad practically raised you after your mother died."

"Yeah, but that was before he got so famous." Steve pointed out.

"Nothing's changed. You guys are still like brothers and you know it. Even if you don't talk as much as you used to." Bruce said firmly "Maybe you two should get together and talk about it. I think you need a day where you can catch up."

Steve sighed and nodded "Yeah I guess so."

"Take my advice and talk to him. I'm sure he misses you, just as much as you miss him." Bruce said, hesitantly reaching over and patting his hand gently.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I know I am."

Steve laughed and took a long drink from his beer. He swept his eyes over the club, observing every person who was dancing, drinking, and… Other. He glanced at the entrance, wondering if Natasha had arrived yet. When his eyes landed on the brightly lit exit, he nearly dropped his beer when he saw who had just walked into the entrance.

There stood Natasha, a bright smile on her lips and long red hair straightened for the night. She looked everywhere and waved at them as she located where her friends were seated and dancing.

Steve couldn't wave back, his body frozen in place as he stared at them because right beside her was the handsome man from the café.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for reading. I am finally getting a sense of how to continue this one, the thoughts are coming and I am thinking that I'll probably get 20-25 chapters out of this. I am not positive though so I'm going to leave that open. I don't want to be held down by it in case it ends at a shorter chapter or goes longer.  
Thank you again so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Comment if you liked it, you can make my day better by giving me your feedback 3  
**  
Steve's face paled as he watched Natasha approach with the beautiful stranger following close behind her. He stuck so close that Steve was surprised he hadn't wrapped an arm around her waist. They'd come together…So naturally they were a couple, right?

He could feel an overwhelming disappointment welling in his chest as he tried to resist the urge to run away. It would look strange if he did and he didn't want the stranger to think badly of him. But Steve didn't want to sit there and feel his heart be ripped from his chest. It was ridiculous, considering he didn't even know the man, but he couldn't help the sadness that mingled with his other painful emotions.

Natasha greeted them warmly, grinning at the two boys sitting off to the side. Away from the mob of people who were only two feet away from them. She took a seat beside Bruce, motioning for her friend to sit with her.

Her friend offered Steve and Bruce a smile, but Steve was too frozen to even return the greeting. There were so many thoughts flying through his mind that he wished he could simply disappear into the abyss of the crowd beside him. Anything to escape the knowledge that the man he'd been drawing for the last couple days was suddenly sitting in front of him. In front of him with one of his good friends.

How could he have been so stupid as to believe that someone like that would be single? Would even be interested in him? Obviously they would be taken. Handsome people didn't stay single in this city for long.

It was a hot spot for couples. For people to come and enjoy the sights, the romantic spots everyone talked about.

Not that Steve knew where they were. Or what it was like to hold someone atop the Statue of Liberty. To kiss someone in Times Square on New Year's Eve. Or skate with the one you love and see the giant tree that was always put up around Christmas time.

None of that was for him.

Standing abruptly, Steve gave a hasty excuse and walked to the bathroom. He needed to clear his head decide what he was going to do. He didn't want to talk to the new stranger, just in case he spilled the fact that Steve had been obsessed with him from the moment he saw him. He knew how creepy that was and he hated that it was the truth.

Why else would he constantly be on his mind?

Steve splashed water onto his face and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were still that bright blue, but they had a spooked gleam to them now. His lips were squeezed in a tight line and his complexion had gone pale. He took in deep breaths, desperately trying to relax his mind as he figured out the best course of action here.

He could easily tell his friends that he wasn't feeling well and had to go. But would that look too suspicious? Should he stay for a little and excuse himself later? Would that be less likely to arouse curiosity about why he was leaving so soon after Natasha arrived?

Even if the latter was the better choice, the thought of staying any longer was enough to make him feel sick. No, it would be best if he just left now. No one would think much of it, they knew he didn't like being in large crowds. That he didn't normally stay for the whole time anyway. He could easily slip out with the "it's too loud in here" excuse. Yes. That would be best.

Steve could go to the coffee shop for a bit, calm his nerves and then go home. He had work tomorrow, and Peggy would want him there bright and early. They had to finalize the page of the shoot they'd just done. She'd have it already written up and laid out, but they she liked to have his approval before sending it off to the publisher.

Technically she didn't have to do that. She was the author of it, and he was only her photographer. Peggy would never listen to that of course, she was all about fairness and being sure Steve got as much recognition as she did.

He really did love her for that. In other life, Steve could see himself being with Peggy. If they weren't in a work environment together, and if he wasn't so damn shy. And, of course, if he hadn't recently found one of the most beautiful men in the world.

Heaving a long sigh, Steve pushed his hands through his hair and splashed his face once more. He walked back out into the loud pounding of a bass heavy song. At this point, he didn't even have to lie about it being too overwhelming to be here. Nothing could be closer to the truth. He was overwhelmed, but this time it wasn't solely the music and crowds fault.

Walking back over to his group of people, he was surprised to find that more people had come to join them. Probably to say hello to Natasha and her friend. As soon as he rejoined them, her friend glanced up and grinned at him. Clearly he recognized the skittish artist.

Steve tried not to face palm, of course he remembered him. He'd helped Steve yesterday when he'd tripped over a chair leg. Great, that was exactly what he wanted to be remembered for…

But when Steve didn't return his smile, the man deflated slightly and sat back. Steve refused to read too much into that. He was probably just put out that Steve wasn't being friendly. After all, the man had helped him, the least Steve could do was be civil. Yet the small man couldn't find it within himself to do that.

All he wanted to do was say his excuse and get the hell out of there. He'd had enough noise and embarrassment for one day.

Clearing his throat he said "I'm uh… I'm going to head out. I have a long day tomorrow and the noise is… It's too loud."

Tony frowned at him in concern and placed a hand on his shoulder "You sure? I was hoping we'd actually see you on the floor today…"

Steve gave him a forced smile "Come on Tony, when have I ever been out on the floor? Did you really think it would just magically happen today?"

"A guy can dream." The millionaire muttered and dropped his hand "Do you want me to have Happy drive you home? No cab fare then. And besides, it's the least I can do. I haven't exactly been there for you lately…"

Warmth spread through Steve as he nodded "Sure that'd be great. And don't worry about Tony, I know you're busy. So am I. Call me some time in the next week, we can get together or something."

The man's face brightened and he nodded "Sounds like a date."

Steve rolled his eyes and patted Tony's shoulder "See you around." He waved goodbye to everyone. Deliberately not making eye contact with the beautiful man beside Natasha. He did, however, meet her eyes and she was giving him the look she only gave people when she thought they were being an idiot.

For whatever reason she was directing that at him, he didn't know. And at that moment he didn't care. She could think whatever she wanted about him. Steve didn't want to be there when the alcohol would set in for the couple and he had to watch them make out. No. That wasn't appealing to him in any way.

With one last wave goodbye, he escaped the building and looked around for Tony's driver. When he spotted him he slipped into the passenger side, letting out a sigh of relief at being free from the suffocating air.

Happy gave Steve a warm smile and said "Where to Mr. Rogers?"

"Just Steve," He replied "And you know the coffee shop by my house? That would be great."

"Yes sir." Happy replied and pulled away from the club.

As they departed, Steve gazed out the window. He blinked as he saw the man step outside and look up and down the block. He almost seemed disappointed when he didn't find what he was looking for. Whatever it was.

Forcing his thoughts away from the stranger, he settled into his seat and kept his eyesight fixed straight ahead.

Taking in the towering buildings with lights still on, illuminating the strip of street. People hurrying down, wrapping their arms around themselves in defense against the bitter cold wind that swept through the city. The many cars around his own, honking impatiently and swerving in and out of lanes.

The insane traffic didn't even seem to faze Happy as they continued down the street. As a New York driver, he was probably more than used to it by now.

Driving in New York really was an art form.

He turned down a side street, leaving the busy commotion of downtown. The lights here were fewer and they didn't brighten the darkness nearly as well. This was home, this was the kind of New York that Steve was used to.

People thought he was crazy for living in such a dangerous area, but Steve never paid them any mind. He couldn't afford the luxurious apartments of downtown and much preferred to spend his money on art supplies and food any way. He was one person, why did he need anything bigger than what he had?

Happy pulled up to the coffee shop and looked around wearily "Are you sure you want to be here sir?"

"Steve." He repeated and said "Yes, I need some time to clear my head. I live close by, I'll be okay Happy. Thank you."

Sighing the driver nodded put the car in the park. "If you're sure. Have a nice night, it was good to see you again Steve." He winked as he used the man's name and Steve smiled at the man.

"You too Happy. Have a safe drive home."

"Of course. Be careful Steve."

Nodding, Steve got out of the car and waved as Happy drove away. More than likely very reluctantly. His friends usually hated leaving the small "defenseless" man here alone. They didn't think he could handle himself.

Though for their credit, they were half right. But that was only when he started the fight. Other than that, people usually left him alone. They had better things to do.

He pushed into the almost empty coffee shop and ordered a tall black coffee. Not his usual order, but he didn't have much cash with him and he just wanted something warm to hold in his hands. Nothing too fancy.

Steve crashed into the first chair he had, silently wishing he had brought his drawing material with him. He should just plan to come here after every club event. He thought this time he might survive the whole night. Oh how wrong he'd been… It wasn't his fault though, he hadn't counted on Natasha showing up with a friend. And having that friend be the one person Steve was crushing on.

It didn't make much sense that he already had a crush on the man. He'd only see him three times, but each time it was like a punch to his gut. He was in awe of every part about his muse.

The coffee shop was basically empty as he slowly sipped at the scolding liquid. It felt good going down his throat and he focused his attention on the warmth spreading through him. Anything that kept his brain off the obvious distraction that had been on his mind for the past two days.

Two. Days.

Steve had a problem.

Sighing heavily the man slumped in his seat and gazed out at the abandoned streets. For once no one walked by and everything was silent. For the time of night it was, that made absolutely no sense, but Steve didn't think too much on it. It wasn't that big of a deal, people were probably all downtown or at home with their loved ones.

Not everyone was alone in this world.

He trained his eyes away from the window and stared down at the table in front of him. He traced the scratch marks that lined it, wondering what if he could make a drawing with a similar technique. Just jagged lines to create an image. He was sure it had been done before, but Steve wanted to try it. Something new, a new style that he could explore.

It was high time he experiment with his art. He'd been doing the same one for a long while now. A good artist never stuck to the same style. There was always room for improvement, always a new way of making their art something original and interesting to people. The real trick was finding it, but never sticking solely to it. You had to learn to experiment.

Finishing his coffee, Steve tossed out the paper cup and headed back out into the chilly air. The sound of the concrete under his feet provided a comfort as he felt himself being grounded in the city. Reminding him that he was real and that the eerie silence wasn't absolute. There was the distant sound of engines, sirens, and people talking loudly. Even if there was nothing here.

New York was the city that never slept, there was always someone out and about. Always some club that went on until the early hours of the morning. Offices opening shortly after said clubs closed. Commotion could always be found in this giant city.

He kept a wary eye out for any troublemakers nonetheless. As much as Steve loved this city he knew it could always be counted on that someone was lurking in the shadows. Drunk or high, ready to beat you and still any cash you had hidden on your person. Which was one of the many reasons Steve refused to wander the streets with enough money to warrant someone jumping him.

When did finally arrive home, he collapsed into the couch. He stared at the blank television, needing his mind to be silent for the rest of the night. What had happened, had happened. Nothing he did now would change that. The man, whoever he was, had tried to be friendly and Steve had turned him down. Besides, he was apparently with Natasha. How could Steve possibly compete with that?

Groaning loudly, Steve slumped further down into the couch cushions and closed his eyes. His whole body felt exhausted and he refused to move unless absolutely necessary. He would happily stay here for the rest of his life at this point. He could feel the gears in his mind slowly coming to a stop. Their hyper awareness relaxing for the moment.

From behind his eyelids he could see the smiling face of his muse. Eyes shining at him, kind and not sympathetic. Genuinely wanting to know Steve.

But that was just how Steve wanted him to have looked. That's the shine Steve wished was in his eyes. It was never the way anyone really looked at him. Besides Peggy and Tony, Sam was better than others but even he thought Steve needed help more often than not.

Tony knew how strong he was because of the years he'd spent in the care of the Starks. Sure, the millionaire still worried about him, but not in the same way.

Peggy cared about Steve and treated him equally. Knowing how people whispered about incapable they both were. The discriminating glances they received at work. Steve wanted to punch anyone who assumed that because Peggy was a woman that they could treat her like she was below them. He knew how hard she worked, and he knew that she worked much harder than any of the men at their office.

They had no right to treat her that way.

She didn't need him to defend her though, she slapped them verbally whenever they tried to talk down to her. Steve couldn't help but admire her. Her strength and attitude toward idiots was truly inspiring. Somehow Peggy never needed to use her fists to get the respect she deserved.

Deep down, Steve wished he could be as strong as Peggy. He hated bullies, but all the bullies he dealt with only beat him to a real pulp if he tried to verbally attack them. Steve needed to learn to fight, but with all his health problems it would be easier for him to simply roll over take the same beating from those he needed defensive skills against.

Steve had his own way of fighting, find a shield and keep smacking them with it until they finally just gave up. Always get back up, they could only hit you for so long before they got bored and walked away any way.

That was his motto at least. And, more often than not it worked.

Smiling to himself, he settled into the couch for a long sleep. He could rest for the rest of the day and then work tomorrow. He would go back to the coffee shop, no point in changing his patterns. After all, there was no way he would see the stranger after tonight.

He bet the man would be annoyed with seeing Steve everywhere. He would want to go to another shop. Steve had never seen him in the neighbourhood before, so chances were that he didn't leave anywhere near this side of town.

The odds of him continually coming to the small out of the way shop wasn't likely. He would go to one in a closer vicinity to him. Obviously.

Even with these words ringing through his drifting mind, Steve still hoped that maybe. Just maybe. He would see the man again in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Double update cause I got my shit together yesterday and couldn't stop writing :P This won't be a regular thing but you will also probably get an update next week. Thank you for reading! Comment what you think!  
**

After work the next day, Steve packed up his things and tapped out for the rest of the evening. He had fallen into a routine the last few days. Work, coffee shop, drawing, walking home, and sleeping. Amazingly each time he'd gone to the coffee shop he'd found the man already there. As if he'd been waiting for Steve. Memorized his schedule.

Steve had banished those thoughts quickly however and just done his normal thing. Finding a blank page and sketching.

The morning after the club, Steve had been pleasantly surprised to walk in and see the man in his usual spot. Across from where Steve sat by the window. He was in a tight leather jacket, dark jeans and his hair was smoothed down this time. A hand resting on his knee as he read a book with the other hand. A perfect pose for Steve to practice sketching out complicated positions.

Whether the man knew how photogenic he was, Steve didn't know. But throughout the whole time that Steve was drawing the man never moved once. Perfectly still, like he'd figured out Steve was drawing him.

Just like before…

Still, the artist refused to believe that his cover had been blown. More so, that the man didn't mind Steve drawing him. That didn't any sense at all.

But the pattern continued on that way. The man was always there, ready for Steve to draw him. Ready to be the subject of each drawing. Each time in a different outfit and hairstyle, elegant and professional, sometimes laidback in a loose grey sweater and ratty jeans.

Each time Steve's breath was taken away by him. He would admire him secretly before even bothering to open his sketchbook. His mind still processing how he looked in each outfit. Different and mysterious.

Their routine became so regular that by the time Steve walked into the coffee shop, the barista already had his drink ready. Hot and fresh the exact moment he walked in. Giving him a secret smile, like he knew something Steve didn't.

Then again he probably knew many things that Steve didn't. That made a lot of sense if he was honest with himself. The barista of a café always seemed to have inside information about the customers who frequented their establishment.

While Steve enjoyed seeing the man every day, he couldn't help but wonder why he only saw him there. Never anywhere else in the neighbourhood. He was like a ghost, there for an hour sometimes two and then just gone.

Where did he come from? Why did he come to this place when there were so many others that he could find the same quality coffee? Maybe even better if he had enough money to go to some of the more expensive ones around.

It didn't really matter, Steve just couldn't tame his curiosity about the stranger. He could just ask Natasha, but he didn't want her to think he was interested in her boyfriend. Steve wasn't the kind of person who wanted to ruin other people's relationships. Whoever had this guy, was very lucky. And Natasha deserved someone who gave off as kind a vibe as this man did.

Even if Steve's senses were engulfed with awe every time he saw the man. They were also getting used to him. He didn't have as severe a reaction as he did when he first saw him and that gave Steve a way to act cool and collected on the outside, when on the inside his stomach was full of fluttering butterflies.

At least… He thought he was used to the man's appearance.

That changed when he came in a week after the first time he'd seen him. Though it was hard to believe Steve had been drawing him for that long, the amount of sketches in his book didn't lie. If someone were to look through his sketchbook now they would be concerned that Steve was stalking some innocent victim.

And in a way he supposed he was, though, he tried not to think about it that way. The man was simply here. He was perfect for drawing. That was all. Nothing that creepy.

On this day, Steve could barely dismiss the idea that the man was doing all this for his sake.

Steve walked into the coffee shop, like he did every day. Paid for the coffee that was already made for him and headed over to his usual seat. He placed his drawing material on the table in front of him with the paper cup of coffee. Settling into his seat, he opened his sketchbook and pretended to survey the shop for inspiration.

When his eyes landed on the man, sitting in his normal seat, Steve felt his heart skip a beat. His breath caught in his chest and he could feel his asthma begging him to use his puffer. His limbs froze and he felt warmth pool downward.

There in front of him was the man, sitting with his body facing him, knees resting on the bar of the chair, two inches apart. He had on dark skinny jeans with black boots half laced up. His shirt was tight and a dark navy. His hair was a disarray like he'd just rolled out of bed. The most shocking part was the dark eyeliner lining the underside of his eyes. Making the hazel of his eyes pop out more than normal.

A small smirk was plastered on his lips. Like he had just heard something incredibly amusing and was trying not to laugh out loud. His head was turned to the side, so Steve could only see half of his face and his elbows were propped up on the counter behind him, hands dangling freely at his sides.

Steve had to force his eyes away and stare at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He could still barely breathe and every time he dared a glance upward it started all over again. Did the man know he was killing Steve slowly with this stunt?

When he'd finally composed himself enough to take out a pencil and draw, he was only able just able to breathe again. He took a deep breath and sketched his smirking muse. Not feeling like he could give him justice, his beauty amplified by the bad boy look he'd gone for that day. He looked like someone who could beat you to bits, but if you were friends with him he'd defend you to his dying day.

To the end of the line.

When he finished the first sketch, he became to refine the rough parts and smooth out any jagged lines he'd made while trying to find the right proportions for the drawing. He could feel his body calming as he fell into the regular rhythm of drawing and perfecting his creations.

Satisfied with the ending, he glanced up and nearly passed out when he caught the man watching him. He froze, keeping eye contact with him. Trying with all his might to look innocent. Like he was drawing anything but him.

The man's smirk widened and he winked at Steve before jumping up and strolling out of the café without another word.

Steve felt his body visibly relax and he slumped in his chair. His heart was pounding with the exhilaration of the day. It had been, and this was sad, the most exciting day he'd had in a very long time. Maybe that was a sign that he really needed to get out more.

Glancing back down at his drawing he smiled at the work he'd done. It was one of his best works, he'd put some much detail into it this time that if he'd coloured he was sure he would have fooled himself into thinking it was the real. Maybe he was complimenting himself a little too much but right then he didn't care. His skill had come a long way in the last week.

Leaning back in his chair he gazed out at the people passing on the street. Today had been a good day, his heart had finally calmed down and he could breathe again. Nothing like a good health scare by a man as gorgeous as the one Steve had fallen for. 

A couple days later, Steve found himself avoiding the coffee shop. He couldn't say why but he had spent a lot of time there and frankly his wallet couldn't afford the coffee. He'd told the barista that he'd be out of town the next couple days so he didn't make him his order and then have to throw it out.

It was only polite.

Steve spent most of his time at home now. Going over work or relaxing on his deck, drawing the scene he could see from there. He hadn't done so in a long time and as he took in the sights that now greeted him, he noted right away how much had really changed.

As he drew, his mind wandered to the man. Had he stopped going to the shop when Steve hadn't shown up? Did he still go every day, wondering if Steve would be there? Did he even care?

Steve didn't know, and he desperately tried not to care. Not that it worked, but he did try!

The day passed slowly for a Saturday as he drew whatever his eyes locked on and his mind deemed interesting enough to put in his expensive sketchbook. There were very few pages left after all the sketches of the muse.

Later, as the sun had reached its highest point, Steve felt a familiar gnawing at his stomach and stood to make himself lunch. He opened the fridge and winced at the lack of contents inside. He had been a little neglectful of going shopping recently. Work had been demanding and frankly he'd been eating at the coffee shop so often he hadn't realized how empty his fridge had become.

Chastising himself, he closed the fridge and grabbed a note pad and paper. He wrote out a list of necessary items: Milk, bread, vegetables, pasta, and a container of juice. That would hold him over for a few days until he had the funds to go on a bigger shop. He got paid next week, he could do it after that. Until he'd survive on what he still had and what he picked up today.

Pulling on a coat, Steve walked out into the cool air of the day. He turned to the right and walked to the grocery store a couple blocks away. They were a little overpriced but they always had fresh foods and Steve trusted them. Some he'd tried to shop at had very little in the way of fresh foods and most of the packaged foods had already been opened by people who came in looking for a free meal.

Naturally he avoided those as much as he could.

He hurried down the street, glancing around every so often when he thought he heard footsteps coming up behind him. But each time he would look back the sidewalk would be bear except for him. He should have thought more of that, but Steve was too focused on getting food and getting home that his mind wasn't focused enough on the dangers that lurked around New York City.

Halfway to the store is when Steve knew there was someone following him. He sped up his speed and the steps matched, he slowed down and the same result. He would be jumped any second now, he had to think quickly. He was going to be, obviously, outmatched and if they wanted money he was fucked.

Steve may not have had much on him, but he needed what he did have to buy food for the rest of the week. Sometimes he hated living in New York. He hated leaving his house, but at least he had been in fights before. Defending himself wouldn't be too bad.

He was a block away when the jump happened. He felt a hand clamp down his shoulder and shove him against the brick building that stood next to them.

Steve let out a gasp of surprise, the air being pushed from his lungs at the force he'd been shoved with. The man in front of him was pissed, not after money like some of the homeless people who wandered the streets. He had eyes full of fury and his hair was neatly done. His clothes were clearly upper class and he definitely didn't need Steve's money.

No, this man was someone Steve had challenged in the past. Who'd left some nasty bruises on his skin after Steve called him out on catcalling a poor girl who was crossing the street. She couldn't have been more than sixteen and Steve hadn't been able to contain his disgust at a grown man's blatant disrespect for women.

But, he'd also managed to break the guy's nose. The only time Steve had actually managed to make an impact on his attacker. He could still see the crooked curve to it, the man's face was shoved so close to Steve's.

His breath smelt like whiskey and it was mixed with some expensive smelling cologne that could probably only be ordered online and bought some high end store downtown. Nothing Steve would ever afford, nor want, in his lifetime.

"Remember me punk?" The man asked, holding Steve by the collar of his shirt. His lifted him up by it, leaving Steve's feet to just barely scrape the ground.

Steve coughed and gasped out "Y-yes, you were the pervert who catcalled a sixteen year old girl. Nice to see you've cleaned up your act."

The man slammed Steve against the wall, and it took all the smaller man's force to avoid letting it hit the bricks that were digging into his exposed skin behind him. "You think this is a time for jokes you little shit?"

"No." Steve answered truthfully "But I just assumed you wouldn't understand sarcasm. Your brain doesn't seem big enough for it. What kind of man has to go after underage girls to get attention?"

Anger glowed in the man's eyes and he let go of Steve's collar, letting him drop to the ground. He stumbled once his feet hit the ground and glared up at him.

He looked up too early and a fist collided with his cheek, knocking him to the side. He hit the pavement with forced and felt his breath hitch painfully. But he had no time to reach around for his inhaler this time. He felt his jeans rip and a scrape run across his knees.

Steve got back up, fists up and ready. The man laughed at him and reared back to punch him again. The blow sent him sprawling to the ground once more, this time his palms hitting a broken bottle that was lying on the ground.

Chips embedded themselves into his soft skin and he winced. Refusing to give him the pleasure of staying down, he yanked the long shards out and jumped back up, holding one of the longer pieces in his hands.

He couldn't find anything useful to use as a shield, so this would have to do.

"You want to fight little man?" His attacker snarled "You think you can take me?"

"I did break your nose." Steve pointed out, knowing he was just digging himself a deeper grave at this point. "That's got to count for something."

"You're pathetic." The man spat out and raised his fist to bring it into Steve's face once more.

Steve braced him for the impact. He bent his knees and heard the wind of his fist flying at him, he was knocked to the ground once more. Landing on his ass and feeling it vibrate all the way up his spine. This time the man didn't bother to let him stand up, he stood over Steve and grabbed his shirt collar. He lifted him up with one hand, the other raised to punch him. Steve made his body go tense, hating that he closed his eyes. He waited for the man to punch him out, but the final blow never came.

He felt the hand let go of his collar and he fell back onto the pavement. Steve paused for a moment, confusion clouding his mind when he heard someone grunt in pain and hit the ground in front of him. He squinted his eyes open, unsure if he wanted to see what had happened. Were there going to be more people for him to fight now?

Glancing upwards his skin paled at the sight in front of him. There was someone else beating the shit out of the pervert in front of him. He pulled the man up and shoved him away, sending Steve's attacker sprinting away down the street.

He blinked at his rescuer, still not believing the sight that his eyes showed him. How was it even possible?

The man from the coffee shop bent and offered Steve his hand "Hey… You alright?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys sorry to have been AWOL for like three months. But University was really heavy and I had to put all my focus in on that. I want to get back to regular updates but with having to write chapters for three different stories and then having my next semester starting in January I don't know how realistic that is. However, that being said I finally have this next chapter ready. I won't get back to this one for awhile so I apologize and hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you guys so much for reading and sticking with me through all my crazy no schedule updates. You guys are the absolute best and I love you all! 3 Please comment if you liked it! It means the world to read your comments.**

Steve stared up at the stranger and hesitantly took his hand. He let the man pull him to his feet and said in a shaky voice "Y-yeah I'm fine." Steve forced a sly smile to his lips and continued with "Not the first beating I've had."

The man shook his head and smirked down at Steve "Somehow I'm not surprised by that. I'm just glad I found you before it got any worse. That guy looked ready to kill you."

"He probably was." Steve said with a shrug "I could have handled him though."

"Yeah. That's exactly what it looked like." The man teased, that smirk still plastered on his full lips.

Steve felt his cheeks go pink and he ducked his head with a small smile on his lips. "Well, uh, thanks for the help. I should probably get home." He looked up and said "See you around." And started forward to walk back home. He would go to the store tomorrow, there was no point in trying to get there now. He had to get home and take care of the wounds on his face, make himself look normal so Sam and Tony wouldn't try and make him move in with them.

He didn't get far before he heard footsteps close behind him and stiffened his shoulders, he turned around cautiously and blinked at the sight of the man coming after him. He smiled shyly, pushing his fingers through his hair "C-can I walk you home? Just so I know you get there okay."

"I can take care of myself." Steve said stiffly.

"I don't doubt it, but it would just help me sleep better if I know you're okay." He explained, shrugging slowly.

Steve sighed and reluctantly agreed "Yeah… Okay." He couldn't stop the warmth spreading in his chest as they started down the now silent New York street.

"I'm Bucky by the way." The man said.

"O-oh…" Steve said softly "I'm Steve."

After a moment of silence, Bucky spoke up and said casually "So, are you ever coming back to the coffee shop? It's pretty boring there without you there. I mean I never even got a chance to ask you about all those drawings."

Steve's cheeks reddened, as he hid his face from the man "I, uh… I don't know." He hesitantly glanced up at him and said "I didn't know if seeing you every day was a good thing. I mean you're with my friend Natasha right? So…"

"What? Natasha? No man, we're just friends. She brought me to the club last night because she wanted me to meet people." Bucky replied "She must've known that she was friends with the cute guy I wouldn't stop talking about. I'm sorry if I freaked you out that day, I was going for a dramatic reveal. But… But uh you left before I could say anything to you."

"Oh…" Steve laughed softly, rubbing his arm self-consciously "I-I thought… Well… I-I guess it doesn't matter now." He smiled at Bucky "It's nice to finally meet you Bucky."

Bucky grinned at him, extending his hand amiably "It's nice to finally meet you too Steve. I think it's about time. Don't you?"

"A little." The smaller man agreed.

"So Steve, am I ever going to get to see those drawings?" Bucky asked again, gently nudging the man's shoulder.

Blushing deeply, Steve shrugged and looked anywhere but at Bucky "Um… Yeah I guess. If you want to see them… I'm sorry for drawing you without your permission. I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable…"

The other man laughed loudly and shook his head "Not at all, I was actually honoured. No one's ever done that before, or at least no one I've ever caught."

"Usually I'm better at hiding it." Steve mumbled, keeping his eyes turned downward.

"No you're not, but don't worry about it. No one minds. They're all expecting to see themselves in some big art gallery one day." Bucky replied with a soft chuckle "I've talked to a few of them. You have some very expectant subjects."

Steve glanced over in surprise "R-really?"

"Yeah of course! They all want to see." Bucky replied with a bright grin down at Steve. "You could probably get them hung up around the café."

Laughing softly, Steve shook his head in disbelief "Well, maybe you should take a look at them first before you start suggesting that. You may find you don't like them at all." He pushed his fingers through his hair as they came around the corner to his small apartment building.

Steve unlocked the door and let the other man walk in, in front of him. Bucky waited just inside the door, smiling at Steve as the two walked up the many stairs to his apartment's floor. Steve had to keep the pant from his breath as he reached the top. He normally took an elevator, due to his asthma. But he didn't want to look weak in front of the man. He didn't want Bucky's first impression of him to continue to be sympathy and someone who would constantly be needed to save.

He wanted Bucky to see him as any other guy.

But that would be impossible if Bucky knew all the health issues he had. Which was why Steve wouldn't tell him, not yet at least. He wanted to get to know him first before they got into all those other unpleasant topics.

Besides they probably had much more interesting things to talk about. Steve had been spying on him for months, there had to be so many things Bucky wanted to ask him… God knew there were so many questions that Steve had for him.

Why wasn't he weirded out by Steve?

Why hadn't he just gone over and talked to him before?

Had he really been following him the last little while?

Was he interested in Steve? Could he ever dare hope for that?

They finally reached the top of the staircase and Steve forced himself not to go and lean against the wall next to the exit. He felt like his lungs were exploding but he did his best to keep his breathing steady as he breathed. Bucky didn't even look close to being out of breath and Steve couldn't help the envious thoughts that crept into his mind.

He had never known what it was like not to have to watch his physical activity. He had always lost his stamina easily.

Standing up straight, Steve walked confidently to the door and unlocked his apartment for himself and for Bucky. The two stepped inside and Steve motioned to the living room.

"M-make yourself at home." Steve said, his voice airy. "I'll be right there, just g-gotta go grab my sketchbook." He wasn't exactly lying, he did need to grab his book but he also needed to go use his inhaler without Bucky noticing.

The man nodded "Thanks." And he walked over to the couches in the living room.

Steve smiled softly, still not truly believing that the man he'd been watching and drawing for the past few weeks was now here in his apartment. Who would have thought this would ever happen?

He left Bucky alone in the living room and walked back to his room. Once he was safely out of sight he took out his inhaler and took in a deep breath from it. His lungs seemed to expand properly once more as he sighed in relief. He grabbed his sketchbook and tucked it under his arm, he glanced around for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he needed to grab.

Seeing nothing, he headed out back to the living room. There sat Bucky, still beautiful in the afternoon sun. The lights streaming across his face with an orange hue, his hair disgruntled and face peaceful. He didn't look awkward at all to be there, something Steve wished he could feel the same. Right then the only emotions he was feeling was an intolerable tightness in his chest.

He didn't know what else to do but to walk in and face this situation head on. Steve had never been a really nervous person before. He was comfortable with just about anything, he picked fights with people twice his size all the time.

But this… This was a situation he had never been faced with before. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle all of this.

Maybe if he just sat down and started a conversation, things would be fine. Maybe he didn't actually have to be scared to talk to him.

Taking a deep breath, Steve stepped forward and went to go talk to the man. He cleared his throat as he entered which earned him a bright grin from Bucky that made his heart skip a beat. This man was really something else.

"I… I brought my sketchbook. You can look through it if you want. But I'll warn you, they're not that good…" Steve said, hesitantly handing the man his most prized possession.

Bucky grinned up at him and said "I doubt that, I'm sure they are amazing." He opened it to the first page and his eyes widened "Whoa…" He whispered and began to slowly flip through the pages.

Steve took a hesitant seat next to him and watched as he stared in awe at all the drawings that he turned to. Steve had never seen anyone look so amazed at his art work before. He felt a soft blush creep into his cheeks as Bucky came to the drawings of him.

"Steve… These are amazing," Bucky whispered "I think you've made me look better than I actually do."

"N-no, I don't think that's possible." Steve laughed softly.

"Oh come on," Bucky grinned "You are so talented man! Why haven't you started an art gallery yet?"

He started laughing louder then, he shook his head and said "There's no way people would want to see my random stalker drawings. You're the first person I've ever actually shown these to."

"Really?" Bucky asked, his eyebrows shooting up "Then no wonder people don't know how talented you are! If you'd only show them then you would totally have people buying them off of you!"

Steve blushed again "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"Well… Uh thanks." Steve replied nervously.

Bucky grinned at him and leaned back into the couch "You know, we should probably clean up your injuries. We don't want them to get infected."

Steve shrugged "it's not a big deal, I get them all the time. I've had worse."

"Doesn't change the fact that we should take care of it."

"Fine." Steve said with a sigh "There's a medical kit in the bathroom, I'll go get it."

Bucky shook his head "No, you sit here. I'll be right back okay?" And he stood up, heading for the bathroom.

When he'd left the room, Steve couldn't stop the small smile that passed over his lips. He couldn't believe someone was actually willing to take care of him. All the times before he'd just dealt with it himself because his friends usually got mad at him for letting himself get caught up in another fight.

But Bucky hadn't asked a single question, just accepted the fact that Steve was prone to getting his ass kicked. Or at least that he had gotten it kicked this time, and that he needed help. No questions asked, just there willing to help.

It was hard to believe that this man was even real.

Bucky came back in with a triumphant grin on his face, "Found it!" He announced and dropped down to his knees in front of Steve. He took out a disinfectant wipe and gently took Steve's cheek to clean the wounds on his face first.

"So, get into fights often?"

Oh… There were the questions.

Steve shrugged again "I guess, I just don't like to let bullies get away with picking on people. It isn't fair that they get to just do whatever they want because they think they're better than everyone else. So I do what I can."

Bucky smiled up at him "That's really admirable." He gently wiped at his bruised and cut up cheek "I wish I was as brave as you."

"Well, you did take on that guy today." Steve pointed out "That was pretty brave."

"Yeah but you do it on a regular basis it sounds like." Bucky replied "That's what's really impressive."

"Thanks." Steve smiled up at him "Most of my friends don't feel that way, so it's nice to hear someone not chew me out about it for once."

Bucky smiled back at the smaller man "You're welcome." He continued cleaning him up, his face concentrated on the man in front of him. After a moment of silence he said "So do you want to maybe get dinner some time?"

Steve felt his heart stop as he blinked over at Bucky "A-are you serious?"

"Completely."

His heart fluttering excitedly in his chest, Steve nodded slowly "Yeah… Yeah I would like that."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, so semester is still in full swing but I had a day and managed to get this written. I have a job now too which seems hell bent on taking over my life. However, I promise to update as much as I can. I have to do the other two fics that I'm working on next so I don't know when the next chapter will be up. Thank you guys so much for reading and sticking with me through all my crazy no schedule updates. I love you all! 3 Please comment if you liked it!**

"Wait, wait, wait." Tony said, holding up his hand to stop Steve "You actually got a date with the guy? After he saw you get your ass handed to you?"

Steve shrugged and crossed his legs "Apparently it didn't turn him off."

Tony chuckled "Well ain't that amazing."

"Hey!" Steve complained, glaring at his friend "You weren't even there!"

"I didn't have to be, I've seen you get the shit kicked out of you. It's never a pretty picture." Tony pointed out, taking a sip from the glass of whiskey in his hand.

Steve rolled his eyes and refused to answer. It had been a week since he'd first talked with Bucky. They'd seen each other at the coffee shop a few times, but not much more. Dinner was still set for seven on Thursday which, to Steve's poor heart's dismay, was only two days away. He'd come to Tony for help, but based on the man's shock he doubted his friend was going to be much help.

"Maybe I should just ask Pepper." Steve said absent mindedly, fingering the rim of his glass of water.

Tony's face dropped and he slapped a hand to his heart dramatically "Come on Rogers! I am here to help you, you can trust me!"

"Oh really?" Steve asked with a teasing smile.

"I am shocked you would ever doubt me. I thought we were friends." Tony whispered, his hand still on his chest.

Steve smirked at his friend and shook his head "Have you ever considered a career in the theatre? I think you'd fit in well with them."

Tony scrunched up his nose "You know I wouldn't last long."

"Too much attention?" Steve teased "As if that's ever been a problem."

"I don't need your sass Rogers." Tony muttered, standing up to refill his glass. He lingered by the bar, seeming to have fallen deep in thought. He turned to face his friend after a moment and asked "Has he chosen a place to take you yet?"

Steve shrugged "I don't know. He's picking me up, I think he wants it to be a surprise."

"Classy." Tony noted, taking a sip "Well, I'd find out where you're going. You don't want to be underdressed, or overdressed..."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Steve agreed. "Do I… Can I just come out and ask him? Would that be alright?"

Tony laughed "Yeah I would say so. It wouldn't exactly be an unusual question. And if he says it's a surprise just ask what you should wear, that'll work."

Steve nodded, taking notes in his mind. He didn't want to mess this up. This was his first date in a long time. Making a good impression was important, but he didn't want to make it look like he was trying too hard.

Tony was the master at making trying too hard seem effortless. He'd been on so many dates that Steve had lost count over the years. After living with the Stark's for most of his life, he had seen Tony parade a handful of girl in front of him. It never ceased to amaze him that the entire female population hadn't turned their backs on the man for good.

Apparently fame did wonders for the man.

Mussing his hair with a sigh, Steve leaned back in his chair and bit his lip "What if I mess up?"

"When? On the date? Or before you even get there?" Tony asked, sitting back down across from Steve "Because either is a possibility at this point."

Steve sent him a glare "Both I guess. It's been awhile since I've found someone like him, someone who you know actually interested me."

"Again. I'm offended."

"And it's different this time, somehow… He doesn't think I'm weird."

"That is a miracle."

Steve crossed his arms, eyebrows scrunching together critically "Are you going to be helpful? Or are you just going to make snide comments?"

"I am helping!" Tony protested, sitting up straighter in the chair "I'm offering words of amazement. The guy sounds great, I'm happy for you Steve. I really am."

"Thanks… I think." Steve said, finishing his drink quickly "I should head out, besides you have work to get back to."

Tony frowned and stood with his friend "Not really, nothing that can't wait. Where are you going for the rest of the day?"

"Well, I don't have work." Steve said, pulling on his leather jacket. "So I guess to find something to wear that doesn't have a hole in it."

His friend winced and grabbed a jacket off it hanger "I better come with you. Who knows what horrors you'd find without me."

"Your faith in me is astounding."

"Come on Rogers, let's go get you dolled up for your date." 

Steve eyed the ensemble Tony was throwing together for him to try on. A navy dress shirt with black slacks and even a blazer that matched the shirt perfectly. The shirt was plain, no design to compliment the colour and Steve didn't even want to consider the price of the three items.

This was the third store they'd walked into and in each one Steve had found several items he thought would work, but Tony had vetoed all of them with many comments about Steve's lack of style. Finally Steve had let his friend choose the next store. And here they were, in the most expensive looking store in New York.

The floor was tiled with marble and each pillar that held up the ceiling was chiseled to look like those fancy pillars seen in ancient Greek structures. Gold statues were in each corner and a fountain sat in the centre with benches around it for people to sit and wait for their friends.

Needless to say, Steve felt incredibly out of place around the high class citizens who brushed past them.

"We'll start with this." Tony decided, handing the clothes to Steve "Go try them on and then show me, I doubt this will work for the first try."

"This is hardly the first try."

Tony waved his hand dismissively and nudged Steve towards the changing rooms.

With a sigh of acceptance, Steve walked into the cramped space. There was carpet in the change rooms instead of the marble flooring and a ridged maple wood door separated him from the rest of the store. White walls encased the small space with hooks on each side for the many items people usually brought in with them.

A mirror was on the back wall and Steve frowned at his reflection.

His height brought him just to the centre of the mirror and his hair was combed to the side, but still looked disarray. The clothes in his arms seemed to dwarf him and made his old leather jacket, worn through jeans, and baggy grey shirt look like he'd pulled them out of a trashcan.

Whatever Bucky was seeing in him was beyond Steve. He was hardly what most people would call "a catch."

Turning away from his reflection, he hung up the three items on their own respective hooks and began to strip down. He grabbed the slacks first, refusing to look at the price tag. He already knew just how much he didn't belong in this side of the city. The looks he'd gotten when he'd walked in with Tony had been enough to tell him that.

As he pulled the pants on he couldn't help but smile, at least Tony still knew his size. The clothes didn't dwarf as much once they were on his body. The slacks fit quite comfortably and he didn't feel like his was swimming in the clothes, nor that he wouldn't be able to sit down in them.

With a little more confidence, he put on the shirt next and the blazer in turn. Buttoning up the bottom clip that held the jacket closed, Steve hesitantly turned around to see how they fit.

He turned around and his eyes widened at his new reflection. Steve brushed his hair to the side, trying to make it work with the new professional hair the clothes were giving him. They fit like a glove, the colour enunciating his already incredibly blue eyes and the lightness to his blonde hair and his small form wasn't as pathetic under the form fitting dark clothes.

A smile tugged at his lips and he turned away from the mirror to walk out and show Tony. He still refused to look at the price tag until Tony gave him the nod of approval.

Back out in the busy store, Tony was leaning against the door frame to the changing rooms, a bored expression on his face as he surveyed the store behind him. There was a relaxed air to his shoulders that he always seemed to have. Nothing got under Tony Stark's skin.

Nothing.

"What do you think?" Steve asked, raising his arms for Tony.

The billionaire turned to look at him, his brow raising as he saw Steve's ensemble "Not bad Rogers, you clean up nice. Never would have guessed."

Steve rolled his eyes but didn't reply, letting Tony size him up.

"Alright, maybe this will work. The colour's good, the fit isn't bad. It's dressy enough for a date but not so much that it looks out of place. This might actually work…"

"Wow, Tony Stark actually paying a genuine compliment."

"Screw you Rogers." Tony laughed and stepped closer to inspect the outfit more thoroughly. "I think we might actually have the one here. I'm amazing at this."

"Sure." Steve said, twisting to see the tag hanging under one of his arms. His throat closed as his eyes centred on the price "Tony. This shirt is 80.00, that's just for the shirt!"

"Well, what did you expect? This stuff is good quality, it'll last forever!"

"That's great, but how am I supposed to afford it Tony?"

The man's face fell into an amused smirk and he tilted his head slightly to the side "Obviously I'm buying them for you. Did you think I brought you in here thinking you'd be able to afford even a pair of socks?"

"Tony I can't let you do that."

"Well you don't have a choice, now go get changed and hand the clothes out to me. I'll pay for them and we can go back to my house for dinner. Pepper said she would make something special for us." Tony grinned and waved him off.

Knowing it was hopeless to argue, Steve turned around and went back into the change room. He undressed once more, handed the close out to Tony over the door and once the other man grabbed them wand walked off, Steve got back into his every day clothes and took one last look at himself in the mirror.

If Bucky was already interested when he looked like this, then Thursday was going to be fun.


End file.
